


Sansaglit sa Magkabilaang Sansinukob

by Prinsipe ng Poot (WhatWentWrongWithWalter)



Category: El Nolibusterismo, Noli Me Tangere & Related Works - José Rizal, Philippine Literature - Fandom, Trese (Comics)
Genre: Bilingual, El Nolibusterismo (fandom), Experimental Style, Filipino Mythology - Freeform, M/M, Multi, Trese!AU, Wikang Filipino at Ingles, basagani, penilaez, tadecson, this is my break from writing thesis lol, why do i like pioneering new shit, will add more stuff habang tumatakbo ang kuwento
Language: Wikang Filipino
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2019-01-25 16:06:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12535728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatWentWrongWithWalter/pseuds/Prinsipe%20ng%20Poot
Summary: Dalawang mundo ang magkapatong, bibihirang magkatagpo o magkasalubong. Isang konkreto, isang metapisikal, pero nasaan na tayo ngayon?





	1. Aksidente

****Sansaglit sa Magkabilaang Sansinukob**** ** **  
**** (El Nolibusterismo x Trese!AU)

 

“Uy, ‘tol, daan lang kaming 7-11. Saglit lang, ‘tol. Mauna na kayo sa Diabolical.”

“Susmariyosep, wala na kayong condom ba?”

“Ulol mo, Tads!”

“Labyu, Juanits!”

_Beep._

_Beep._  

* * *

“Sino ‘yun?”

“A, si Juanito. Dadaan lang daw sila sa 7-11. Mauna na raw tayo.”

Tinapakan ni Tadeo ang gas at unti-unting pumik-ap ng tulin. Malinis naman ang kalsada ngayong gabi. Hatinggabi na kasi, marami nang tulog. Pati aso’t pusa, lasing sa antok. Pati mga bituin, nakapikit.

“At naniwala ka naman sa gagong ‘yun?” Humikab si Pecson. Tumagilid siya sa pagkakaupo. Mga mata, nakapako sa labas ng bintana, sa kurtina ng itim na nakabalot sa kanila. Malalayo ang pagitan ng lampposts sa kurba ng daan. Kulay kahel ang daan sa mga nakayukong poste.

“Tsk, pesimista nga pala ang jowa ko.” Inabot siya ni Tadeo, kinurot sa kaliwang pisngi. “Siopao cheeks!”

“Umayos ka nga!” Sinubukang ipalo palayo ang kamay ni Tadeo, pero nakangisi rin siya. Madalas, hindi pa rin siya sanay sa paglambing.

“Ito naman, o! ‘Di na mabiro!” sabay halakhak nang halakhak nang halakhak.

* * *

 “Sino ‘yun?”

“Si Tads lang, beb. Sabi kong mauna na sila. Gusto ko ng chips, e.”

“Ay sus, chips daw kuno,” pabirong ginulo ni Placido ang buhok ng kaharap.

“Uy, nakangiti siya…” Marahan siyang isiniko ni Juanito, na kamuntik nang matumba mula sa motorsiklo.

“O siya, o siya! Sige na, mag-helmet ka na nga!”

Sabay nilang isinuot ang helmet bago tumulak padiretso sa dilim.

* * *

“Malapit na ba tayo?” hikab na tanong ni Pecson. Inaantok na siya, kahit hindi pa sila nakararating ng Ermita.

“Medyo. Inaantok na you?”

“Kumaliwa na ba tayo sa rotonda?”

“Wa pa tayong rotonda, bebelabs.”

“Ang bagal mo pala. ‘Di ka ba inaantok? Gusto mo'ng kendi?”

“No, thanks. Kaya ko ‘to. Penge kiss na lang?”

Tumagilid si Pecson, nakangusong lumapit sa pisngi ni Tadeo. Hinarap naman ni Tadeo ang buong mukha at sinalo ng kaniyang labi ang labi ng katabi. Mistulang kinikilig, tumulin ang takbo ng kotse.

Sa labas, may narinig silang matulin na pagkaripas ng motor. Matinis ang pagkaskas ng mga gulong sa aspaltong lubak-lubak, at nagdire-diretsong sumalpok ng poste. Kakaiba, puti ang ilaw nitong poste na nakatutok sa ngayo’y wasak na motorsiklo. Ito lang ang puting ilaw sa hilera ng kahel na ilaw.

Napapreno si Tadeo, pinindot ang hazard at dali-daling lumabas ng kotse.

“Tangina!”

* * *

“Grabe, umabot ka ng Php. 150 sa tsitsirya lang!”

“Eeeeeee, Placidiiiiiiiing!”

“Buti sana kung kumakain ka rin ng gulay pangkontra nitong junk, diyos ko po!”

“But, but, but, but… Cheetos… ‘Di ba gusto mo rin ng Jalapeño?”

“Aba, nandamay ka pa! Hindi ako nakain ng Jalapeño, mas gusto ko ng local. Clover, ganu’n.”

“Pero gusto mo bang tikman…?”

“Sige na, sige na. Tara na sa Diabolical. Baka nandu’n na silang lahat, ano.”

Inilusot ni Juanito ang supot ng mga nabiling tsitsirya sa handle ng motor. Tsaka niya iniabot ang helmet ni Placido, bago isuot ang kaniya. Hindi pa niya naiaayos ang bangs, may matulin na matulin na kotse ang gumuhit sa kalsada at nagdire-diretsong sumalpok sa isang poste. Tila kulog na sinabayan ng lindol sa lakas ng pagkabunggo.

“Whoah! Grabe ‘yun!”

“Uy…"

"Ha? Hala? Ano, bakit?"

"Juanito... ‘di ba… kulay black din ang kotse ni... nila…?"

“Oo? Bakit?”

“At parang... ganiyan din ang model ba…?”

“Tangina!”

* * *

_"The number you have dialed is currently out of reach or unavailable."_

“Sigurado ka ba ‘yan talaga number niya?”

“Oo! Pinindot ko nga lang 'yung last call. Tangina naman, parang kanina lang, kausap mo 'yung tao, 'tapos, putragis! Ikaw nga! Ikaw nga, tawagan mo nga si Placido. Baka nagda-drive pa si gago kaya 'di sumasa—”

“Hello?”

“Hello?"

"Hello?"

"Juanits! Juanits! Pare!”

“Tads? Tangina mo, pre! Buti sinagot mo rin!”

“Ha? Gago ka ba? Ikaw nga diyan ang kanina pang tinatawagan! Kinabahan ako, akala ko kung ano’ng nangyari!”

“Ulol, kanina pa ako tumatawag! Kami rin kaya, nag-aalala, pre. Okey lang kayo? Ka-kotse niyo ‘tong bumunggo sa poste. Pero walang mga katawan sa loob. Sa’n na kayo?”

“Ha? E, nandito kami sa may motor na bumunggo sa poste rin. Akala nga namin kayo. Wala ring mga katawan, motor lang.”

"Teka.”

“Ano?”

“Tangina, sa'n kayo?”

“Tangina, sa'n kayo?”

_Beep._

_Beep._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GLOSSARY
> 
> -The Diabolical: Sa Trese komiks (Budjette Tan & KaJo Baldisimo), isang bar na pagmamay-ari ni Alexandra Trese. 
> 
> -kahel: orange (parehong prutas at 'yung kulay; depende sa context siyempre)
> 
> -ngisi: ngiti/ smirk/ grin/ bungisngis


	2. Rotonda

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: Hindi ako magaling na magaling mag-Ingles, huhubels. Pero gusto ko ng bagong style kasi experimental at non-conformist ako, charot.
> 
> Sana okey pag-characterize ko rito. Nagse-self-search pa naman ng _Trese_ ang creators, waaa! A lot of this part is from the Trese Universe already.

****Somewhere in Between Mirroring Universes**** ** **  
**** (El Nolibusterismo x Trese!AU)

 

Phone calls in the middle of the night were ordinary for Alexandra Trese. Be it something suspicious, a murder, an aswang on the lose, a psychotic halimaw collector, a tikbalang, a kapre, a duwende, a manananggal gang… Nothing could surprise her now.

Not even missing bodies from a freak accident.

When Trese and the Kambal arrived at the Rotonda, the night was painted with reds and blues from police cars on the side. Captain Guerrero had reported: a car and a motorcycle unfortunately crashed on the same lamppost. Both vehicles, beyond repair now. The drivers, the victims, were nowhere to be found.

“I asked Acosta to go on a search party as we speak. Sent the rookies to scout the perimeters. Maybe the victims are nearby.” Captain Guerrero told Trese, scratching his nose, “Or maybe they’re drunk? Or runaways?” Even he was unsure of the conclusions he postulated. “Socorro Investigations found a few clues. Bags of chips inside a 7-11 plastic bag, from the motorcycle."

"Bossing!" Crispin suddenly emerged. "I found two helmets nearby, Bossing."

"Hmm, I guess it’s safe to assume there are two riders then.” the stout police man concluded.

“Anything else?” Trese asked, but before he could answer, the other Kambal called out their attention.  

“Bossing! Bossing! They found a something in the hood, Bossing!”

Two bags were being inspected by the Socorro. One bag had a lanyard knotted at the hook of the bag. The yellow card pronounced the name of a well-known Catholic university in España. Basilio, both grinning on the mask and in his mask, took the bag from an investigator and showed it to her.

It was a student I.D., the name __YLAGAN, Tadeo D.__  was typed and centered, below a 1x1 face of the student.

“Three victims then,” she stated, showing to Captain. “Looks like we have at least three missing bodies here.”

“There’s another bag, Bossing!” Basilio sounded excited, as the second bag, a black messenger bag, was pulled from behind.

“The passenger’s seat is warm, too. Maybe there's two people in the Honda. The driver and the passenger. What d'ya think, Bossing?”

The bags in the car, the plastic bag from the chips, nothing made a clear connection yet.

“Ser, wala po talaga. Ang layo-layo na ng pinuntahan namin.” One of the rookies, almost breathless, came back unsuccessful. No bodies were within the vicinity.

“Talaga? Tiningnan niyo na ba du’n? Du’n sa sinasabi kong kwan?”

“Opo, Ser.”

“Opo, opo, doon sa kwan.”

“Pati ‘yung kabila, Ser.”

“Wala talagang tao, Ser.”

Captain Guerrero clucked his tongue. His pruny raisin face, more scrunched in confusion and frustration.

“Do you think…?”

“… that this is weird enough for me to handle?” Trese finished his question with a smirk. “Captain, make sure the media doesn’t get here. I need to ask help from my other sources. I don’t want anyone else snooping around.”

“True. Always difficult with them around.”

The detective called her boys and walked to the car. (Un)Fortunately, the accident was somewhat close to her safe space, The Diabolical. Materials wouldn’t be hard to transport, in case she had to perform a ritual to investigate.

When she realised neither Kambal followed behind, she turned around to see them in the middle of a dispute.

“It’s just the car, Kuya!”

“No, Basilio, it’s the motor!”

“Kuya, you saw the bags, right? How can you say you don’t see the car?”

“Because there is no car! And, ayun o, the bag of chips. O, Cheetos, Clover, look! Look at these helmets, ano! How can __you__ say there is no motor, ha?”

“What’s going on in here, boys?”

“Bossing, he says he can’t see the motor!”

“Bossing, he’s insane. There is obviously a car!”

This struck her odd, that the Kambal’s stories were different. The two had always engaged in petty arguments, or retorted sassy opinions at each other, but it was odd to hear clashing reports of the very same accident.

The reality of the scene was also different. There was a car, and there was a motor. That was it. Somehow, one Kambal couldn’t see the other, and they both insisted that there is only one true accident.

“Bossing, it’s a car, a black Honda why can’t you—see? See? I’m kicking the tire here! See, it’s solid?”

“Look at this! It’s almost similar to Maliksi’s, but red on these parts,” and Crispin proceeded to touch the dented side of the motor.

“Stop it! Both of you! Get in the car.”

“But—”

“I don’t think we’ll find their bodies here. Not yet.”


	3. Kutob

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lowkey malandi sina Isagani at Basilio. ~~Kasi miss ko jowa ko HAHA.~~ May glossary sa dulo, as usual.

****Sansaglit sa Magkabilaang Sansinukob**** **  
** (El Nolibusterismo x Trese!AU)  


 

“May masamang kutob ako.”

Kanina pang nagkukuyakoy si Isagani. Kanina pang nakatitig sa shot glass. Nakadikit ang tingin sa baso, ngunit malalim ang iniisip.

Patay-sindi ang nagsasayawang kulay ng strobe lights. Pumuputok ang mga tawanan at hiyawan ng mga tao sa bar. Marami na’ng nasa dance floor, alanganing umiindak at alanganing tumatalbog. Maraming kumekembot, iwinawagayway ang mga kamay sa ere, makikinis na braso, at kitang-kita pa ang ahít na ahít nilang kilikili.

Nasa sofa si Isagani, kaakbay ang nobyong si Basilio. Sa sulok ng The Diabolical, kahit dinig na dinig ang basag-tengang tugtugin, tila may sariling mundo ang dalawa.

“Paranoid naman ni mahal,” ani Basilio, at nagtanim ng halik sa pisngi ng kasintahan. Pero ang mga mata ni Isagani, kasing blangko ng puting papel bago siya magsulat.

“Bihira nagkakamali ang kutob ko.”

* * *

__“_ _ __The number you have dialed is currently out of reach or unavailable.”_ _

“Grabe… ayaw sumagot ni Tading…”

“O, kanina ka pa diyan! Shot naman!”

“Sandoval, ito pa ba number ni Tads? ‘Yung 0919?”

“Sige na! Tomar muna!”

“Sandoval, seryoso. Itong Smart pa rin ba gamit niya?”

“Hindi, pare, tanga ‘yun.”

Bumuntong-hininga si Macaraig. Hindi lang lasing na lasing— wasak na ang kaniyang kasama.

* * *

 

“Beer pa, mahal? Red Horse? San Mig Pale Pilsen?”

Umiling si Isagani. Nakatuko ang kapit niya sa cellphone. Padalos-dalos ang mga bar ng signal, naglalaro sa three bars, two bars, one bar.

“Lalabas lang muna ako. Baka mas may signal sa labas. Daming tao na dine.”

“Uy, teka!”

“Mababa signal dine, mahal. Saglit lang ‘to.”

“Bakit parang concerned na concerned tayo? Hindi mo naman gaano close si Juanito dahil sa ex mo, ‘di ba?”

“Hindi si Juanito, si Placido. May utang kasi ako…”

“A,” hindi maiwasang ngumiti ni Basilio. “Kaya naman pala tulirong-tuliro ka! Ikaw talaga!”

“Utang ‘yun, ano ba!” Tumayo na agad si Isagani, binubulsa ang phone.

“Ang tunay na kaibigan, nagpaparaya. Ano ka ba.”

“Mahal, ang utang ay utang. Alam mo naman ako, tapat sa mga salita.”

“Hay, nagpapaka-makata sa labas ng classroom. Sige na nga!” Nasampal ni Basilio ang maumbok na puwit ni Isagani. Hindi niya sinasadya, nakasanayan lang.

“Mabilis lang,” yumuko si Isagani at hinagkan sa labi ang minamahal. “Balikan kita. ‘Wag mo ako masyadong ma-miss,” sabay kindat.

“Teka, teka, isa pa nga.” Nagdikit muli ang kanilang mga labi.

* * *

 

“Hooooooy! Gisiiiiiiiiiiiiiing!”

Hindi na alam ni Macaraig, kung anong klaseng yanig, alog, sampal, palo, ang gagawin niya para mapadilat si Sandoval. Bagsak ang ulo ng Insulares sa counter ng bar. Pati ang bartender na si Hank, nasigawan na siya sa tenga. Wala pa ring kibo ang binata.

“Sorry, low tol kasi,” buntong-hininga ni Macaraig. Naghalo ang inis at pagka-desperado.

Kumakabog ang dibdib niya, kinakabahan sa di-katiyakan. Kanina pa niya tinatawagan ang kaibigang si Tadeo. Kausap lang niya kaninang umaga, niyayayang uminom ngayong gabi. Pangako ni Macaraig na manlilibre siya, naka-iskor kasi ng mataas sa exam. Majors pa!

“Naks! Rak na ituu!” hiyaw ni Tadeo sa telepono. Sa lakas ng boses niya, inilayo pa ni Macaraig ang cellphone sa tenga.

“Yayain ko rin sina ano, sina Juanits!”

“A, sige, sige. Yayain mo kung sino’ng gustong sumama! Basta, less than 3k lang oorderin, ha!”

“3k for a double date? Sige, puwede na.”

“Hala! Anong double date?!”

“Ay, joke, tripol pala! Kayo pa ni Sandovski~ Uuuy!”

“Uy, ser?”

“Ha?”

Nabasag ang guniguni ni Macaraig. Nalusaw ang flashback pabalik sa kasalukuyang panahon. Nasa The Diabolical siya, kakaharap si Hank, at sa tabi, ang natutulog na mukha ni Sandoval. 

“Malalim yata ang iniisip niyo, ser. Sabi ko, ayos lang ba kayo?” tanong ng bartender, habang nagpupunas ng baso. 

Bago pa makasalita si Macaraig, biglang bumukas ang mga pintuan ng entrada ng The Diabolical. May pumasok na babaeng nakaitim at dalawang tila bodyguard niya. Sa dagat ng mga kulay at nagkikiskisang katawan, humiwa ang kanilang itim na damit sa dance floor, parang walang paki. Pumasok silang tatlo sa kwarto.

"Naku, si Bossing," sabi ni Hank, tuluy-tuloy sa pagpunas. "Mmukhang may seryosong kaso na naman."

* * *

 

Nag-aaway pa rin ang dalawang magkapatid, ayaw magpatalo. Ilang beses nang pinagsabihan ni Trese ang Kambal. Kamuntik pang matiketan dahil sa beating the red light (na hindi napansin ni Crispin dahil sa mainit na debate.) Pareho naman silang tama, pero hindi lang makapaniwala.

Motor, sabi ni Basilio. Kotse, sabi ni Crispin. Napabuntong-hininga lamang si Alexandra.

“Bahala nga kayo!” Nagdire-diretso ang babae. “Kukuha ako ng mga kandila. Isa lang ang sasabay sa ‘kin pabalik ng Rotonda. Sino sa inyo?”

Nagkatinginan ang Kambal. Nanahimik. Sinundan nila ang amo, dire-diretso sa gitna ng mga nagsasayawan. Naglaho sila ng ilang saglit, pumasok sa loob ng isang kwarto. (Lingid sa karamihan, hindi ito basta private room para sa mga mananayaw. Paakyat ito sa bahay ng pamilyang Trese. Wala rin nakakaalam na ancestral house ang gusali, trinansform nga lang sa isang bar ang ibaba.)

Nang makababa si Trese muli, nilingon niya ang pintong pinanggalingan.

“Basilio!” sigaw ni Alex, at maraming mga ulo ang napabaling sa kaniyang direksyon.

* * *

 

“Basilio!”

Natigilan si Isagani nang marinig ang pangalan ni Basilio. Lumaki sa gulat din ang mga mata ni Basilio, nakaupo, nakahawak pa rin sa malalambot na kamay ng nobyo.

May lalaking nakabihis-pormal na lumabas sa pintong malapit sa puwesto ng sofa ng dalawang binata. Nakangiti niyang binati ang babaeng mas maliit sa kaniya, nakasuot ng mala-Tsino na bestida. Halos magkasing haba ng buhok ang dalawa, mas mahaba pa nga ang sa lalaki, na bahagyang lagpas ng balikat. Lumabas ang dalawa ng The Diabolical, nilamon ng dilim ang kanilang mga katawan.

Nagkatinginan sina Isagani at Basilio.

“May masamang kutob ako,” pag-uulit muli ng binata.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GLOSSARY
> 
> -nagkukuyakoy: restless leg syndrome ('ika ng Google); 'di mapigilang paggalaw at pagiging "makulit" kuno ng legs lol
> 
> -umiindak: sumasayaw/ dancing
> 
> -tumatalbog: bouncing 
> 
> -bumuntong-hininga: sigh
> 
> -nakatuko: mahigpit na kapit (etymology: tuko 'yung kadiring kapamilya ng butiki, na malakas din ang kapit. Bale, figure of speech ituu.)
> 
> -padalos-dalos: impulsive/ on-off/ fluctuating (depende sa context)
> 
> -dine: dito   
> (A/N: Palagay kong may punto (aceent) si Isagani, pero dahil walang specific na probinsya sa book--bukod sa poor province daw-- Tagalog dialect ang ginamit ko. Baka kasi 'di ko mapanindigan o ma-research nang maayos if it was a different dialect. Bicol language lang kaya kong panindigan, but I headcanon Pecson to be Bikolano instead so. Ayern. Charot, dami kong sinabi.)
> 
> -tuliro: naguguluhan/ aligaga/ atat na kinakabahan na ninenerbyos na 'di mo ma-explain basta confused feelings all jammed in your lungs like hell-- 'yung wtf feeling!
> 
> -low tol: idk if I still need to put "low tolerance" sa alcohol in here, but just in case may magtanong
> 
> -matiketan: mabigyan ng tiket ng traffic enforcer (tse, whatevs)
> 
> -napabaling: napalingon


	4. Candles

**Somewhere in Between Mirroring Universes**  
(El Nolibusterismo x Trese AU)

 

Quiapo offered different coloured candles for different causes. Whites can be used for wishing, or for purity. Reds for love, or offerings for the family. Blue for peace of mind, green for financial stability, and so on. A special rainbow candle was meant for wishes, too. Black candles for conscience.

Alexandra grabs a pack of special candles (white with black strips spiraling) before rushing out of The Diabolical with Basilio. They hop on his motor to get back to the scene of the crime. Later, the car would be towed, care of a friendly Engkanto that she had asked help with. For now, she had to perform a ritual.

“Get in,” she ordered Basilio, who winced at the shattered mess up front. “Don’t worry, I chanted a spell on our way here. We’re cloaked in protection. Until the ritual’s over. Just, get in the back.”

They both sit in the back. The driver’s and the passenger’s seat was too crushed to even bother. Both had a candle in hand.

“I don’t know how to do this at all, Bossing,” the lad confessed. Nervousness altered the pitch in his voice. Alex produced a lighter from one of her pockets and lit his candle.

“Let me do the incantation. If you see, hear, smell, or feel anything— don’t shout. Stay calm.” She placed the wick of her candle towards the fiery end of his. “Stay calm. Close your eyes if you want.” So he did. She could tell despite the mask covering his ashen face.

She closed her eyes, then words barely flew out of her lips. She was muttering, but mostly chanting in her head. Basilio couldn’t understand, but he could feel the world outside the car move. Or were they moving? He still kept his eyes closed in fear.

“Susmariyosep, wala na kayong condom ba?”

His heart almost popped out in fright. He heard an unfamiliar voice close by. He was tempted to open his eyes, but he was sure he couldn’t, wouldn’t, contain his reaction to whatever supernatural was being conjured at the moment.

“Labyu, Juanits!”

He listened to the voices of two males. One had a playful tone, almost childish. Perhaps he was the one who owned the bag with the ID, Basilio guessed. There was another voice, a rather hard punto in his speech.

“Dai ka ba inaantok? Gusto mo ba kendi?”

“No, thanks. Kaya ko ‘to. Penge kiss na lang?”

He heard a loud wet smack and he smiled, trying to imagine.

“Tangina!”

Basilio's eyes popped wide open, as if the magic word was a cuss after all. He jerked his head to the window on his right. Lampposts and trees were speeding outside. To his left, the Bossing was staring upfront. Drops of candle wax stained her hands and the lap of her black dress, but she looked undisturbed. Her gaze, pinned to the front.

The front was magically repaired, and there sat two males. The driver looked worried, an ear pressed on his phone, pleading the recipient to pick it up. Finally, the recipient did, some guy named Juanits. The conversation ended with them asking where they are. Neither replied. Disconnected. The driver got out, and so did the passenger.

This was when Alexandra budged and jumped out of the car to follow. One hand opened the door, the other, still holding the candle. She watched the two souls linger around the lamppost, but did not get too close. Their voices weren’t distinct, as if they were talking in a different language. Or, were they in another dimension? With different vibrations and sound waves that did not cross through the present world?

“What the hell…” She accidentally dropped the candle on the road. The flame died.

One of the males turned into smoke and disappeared into thin air. Only the pudgy male, or his soul thereof, remained. He was panicking, frantic at the loss of his companion. He turned around and around, screaming his name while going in circles.

“Tadeo! Tadeo! Tads! Huwag mo— ‘Wag! ‘Wag! Taaaaaads!”

Alex sprinted back into the car, where she saw Basilio, still holding the candle.

“Don’t drop that. Make sure the fire doesn’t go out.” she commanded. She was at the trunk of the car, hiding from the frantic soul. She should not be seen, not yet. There was a different ritual for that, and they were only here to flesh out a flashback, but something caught her eye.

Something was standing behind a lamppost, not faraway from the accident. It looked alive, like a human shadow. But not quite human. The figure was gigantic, but the black veil blended well in the night. A thin black cloth with faint iridescent threads, as if woven by special diwatas.

It looked familiar, Alex thought. But she could be wrong.

But, no one wore the same veil like the Goddess of Death, Megwayen.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GLOSSARY:
> 
> -punto: accent  
> (I have a headcanon na Bikolano si Pecson, so I'm giving him some Bicol slips in here. I haven't posted this headcanon in Tumblr yet, but I have a full-length explanation, along with a hc surname and other things.)
> 
> -Megwayen: goddess of death (Filipino mythology)  
> ~  
> OTHER NOTES:   
> I actually went to Quiapo and saw that each candles have meanings and intentions. I took a picture of it, so the intro part is accurate. There is no such thing as that special candle that Alex used in this fic, that one is entirely fictional, for the sake of the story.


End file.
